


Lighthouse

by Viscariafields



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: AU where Faro doesn't kill the alphas, Angst, Gen, Margo is the only one left, Travis said she'd be the one to turn the lights off, with the smallest bit of optimism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/Viscariafields
Summary: AU where Ted Faro wipes Apollo, but doesn't kill the alphas.~“I have news I thought you would like to hear.” Margo took off her VR headset and draped it over the arm of her treadmill. She slowly sat down on one of the crumbling benches where Travis used to threaten to bench press her. With a tap on her focus, GAIA appeared. The AI looked pleased. “Three minutes ago, MINERVA achieved her primary goal. The Faro Plague has ended.”
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Lighthouse

Even with artificial lights meant to simulate days and nights, and even with Margo having full control over when this happened, she still found herself waking up earlier and earlier in what she generously referred to as “morning.” For a while she trained the lights to her personal circadian rhythm and found herself living twenty-six-hour days that still managed to shift one way or another. Then she started to feel weird about it, one more unnatural aspect to her unnatural lifestyle, days no longer revolving around the sun, but revolving around Margo Shen, possibly the only human left. So she reset the clocks for whatever that was worth.

Knowing the sun was still out there, she supposed.

Not even Ted’s robots could fuck up the sun.

“Let’s see,” she murmured to no one in particular, flipping through her catalog of vids, “How about… Love in Darkness.”

Across the facility, speakers began to broadcast a show that could now be considered a classic.

With the erasure of Apollo, the crew at GAIA Prime lost most of their plans for a lifetime of entertainment. Of course, they all had their personal collections, and Margo had blasted through every vid she owned within a year. After that, she made a careful plan to ration herself as they all dumped their files into a common library. Travis brought the largest collection, unsurprisingly, but half of it was completely unwatchable. The other half was pornography, and Margo had little interest in that these days.

She missed listening to Ayomide sing while making coffee. For a while, once making coffee had fallen to Charles, he had played back recordings of her to fill in the vast silence. Then they moved to Naoto’s poetry readings. These days she preferred vids, the illusion of people talking, people she would never know and wouldn’t grieve if she didn’t think too hard about it. Samina’s collection of Korean dramas was most useful for this.

The only person left to talk to in the entire world was GAIA.

She didn’t like to bother her too early in the morning. GAIA, unlike Margo, still had important work to do. The most important work in the world, really. HEPHAESTUS had been completed, polished, upgraded, and tinkered with enough. Margo hadn’t touched him in years, and knew he was better for it. She was officially retired.

And like many retired people, she had decided to dedicate her life to the younger generation. Unlike any retired people before her, however, this consisted only of GAIA. Margo had spent many long hours wondering for how long GAIA would be lonely. Lis had set strict parameters to prevent her from talking with the future humans, lest they attempt to upset her programming before they were ready. When Margo finally succumbed to old age, there was no telling how long GAIA would be alone. So even when the vast bleakness of her life in GAIA Prime stretched before her in desperate pointlessness, Margo took her vitamins, sat under her sun lamp, and exercised even when she sincerely did not want to.

She had one final job to do, and she was the only one in the world who could do it.

But she spent the mornings talking to ghosts or old tv series or herself. She started the very day she brought coffee to Samina’s room and found herself the last woman on earth. “I will lose not heart nor despair,” she promised into the still air. And after that, she couldn’t seem to stop talking to herself. Helped her remember things, like if she’d taken her morning medication for joint pain before heading to the gym to walk on the treadmill for an hour or so. Or maybe just half an hour today. Enough to keep herself mobile. With no one left to care for her if she got infirm, she needed her mobility.

“Where did I leave off?” she wondered aloud, putting on her VR headset. She’d traveled almost all of the world this way, or the world that used to be. “It’s summer, so I was walking a desert. No, a salt flat. Does a salt flat count as a desert? I guess the salt flats probably haven’t changed much even with the Plague.” 

The treadmill moved for her with a groan, but if it broke down again, Margo wasn’t sure she’d be able to fix it. Her fingers weren’t what they used to be, and if she got on the floor, there was no telling how long it would take her to get back up. Guess if she survived it, she could count that as a workout. Back when they were planning for their underground futures, Margo had thought servitors an unneeded luxury. No doubt Ted was swimming in them over in Thebes. Or, more likely, his corpse was. But none of them had thought through the hardships of old age. What she wouldn’t give for a robot servant now.

“Margo, may I interrupt?”

GAIA’s voice was always pleasant in her ear. She paused her exercise program. “Of course.”

“I have news I thought you would like to hear.” Margo took off her VR headset and draped it over the arm of her treadmill. She slowly sat down on one of the crumbling benches where Travis used to threaten to bench press her. With a tap on her focus, GAIA appeared. The AI looked pleased. “Three minutes ago, MINERVA achieved her primary goal. The Faro Plague has ended.”

Margo’s mind went blank. The tears that fell were instant and generous. She held a stunned hand to her wet face, unable to respond to this declaration. Even if she could, the only word coming to mind was, “What?”

“I thought you would particularly like to know that I have engaged HEPHAESTUS, and already robots are being prepared to begin the terraforming of Earth.”

“It’s over?” she asked.

“The MINERVA towers sent out the signal four minutes ago. Zero Faro activity has been detected since. MINERVA has been thorough in her analysis. The signal will continue to be broadcast in case there is a swarm out of range over the oceans, but I am confident we have succeeded in this step.”

It was impossible to imagine—a cessation of endless activity outside the bunker walls. An unbeatable plague that ended everything, over. “It’s over,” she said again, wondering if she’d ever believe it. Somewhere, fifty or sixty years ago, Margo had known that the Faro plague would end. She also knew she might be around for it. And then she buried that thought so deeply and so effectively she had forgotten that anything could ever change at all.

“No, Margo. It’s _beginning_.”

“Of course, GAIA,” she said, wiping her face, “You’re right. I just didn’t think I’d see this day.”

“I have been preparing for this day for many years, and I my programming will soon be completely dedicated to terraforming. I’m afraid I will not have as much time for our chats as I would like. But with the threat of the plague eliminated, there is something I thought you should know. The Earth is still uninhabitable, but we no longer have to hide ourselves. If the exosuits are still operable, Margo, you can go outside for limited periods.”

Outside. Another thought she hadn’t allowed herself in years. Decades. There was no outside. There was only this—metal on metal with crumbling plastic and deteriorating fabric and everything always the same every single day except for Margo, who crumbled along with it.

“The first machines are already being built to recreate the atmosphere,” GAIA continued, “Over time, you might see the first changes in the world.”

As soon as she found the strength to stand, Margo made her way to the airlock of the compound. The exosuits, like everything else, were built to last. Hers, untouched since they locked themselves in, still fit. Her hands shook as she did her due diligence—leak checks, UV penetration analysis, temperature checks. It took her almost a full minute with her unsteady fingers to get the last closure shut. And then, for one breathless moment, she was afraid the door to the bunker simply wouldn’t open.

But it did.

For the first time in over fifty years, Margo Shen stepped into the sunlight.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine she sees a robot fly overhead and begins crying all over again. 
> 
> Side note-- what would the sky even look like?


End file.
